


Fire to the IB headquarters

by Northflower



Category: International Baccalaureate - Fandom
Genre: Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:34:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25093186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Northflower/pseuds/Northflower
Summary: algorithm grades could not please everyone.
Kudos: 5





	Fire to the IB headquarters

Your hands were shaking from betrayal as you typed. The screen of the webpage you were on looked blurry through the tears in your eyes, but it wasn’t going to stop you. You wiped the tears away with the back of your hand so that you could see the screen better, and book your flight to Switzerland. Surprisingly, the flights were running out rather fast. There weren’t many to begin with as you wanted to leave as soon as possible, but they were disappearing at an increased rate as the servers of candidates.ibo.org were beginning to clear and more and more people got to see their disappointing results.

Finally, you managed to book a flight to Switzerland just two days away. You closed your computer with a sigh and prepared to pack.

On the airplane, you had been prepared to just sleep for the entire flight. But destiny had other plans, it seemed. The person who sat on the seat next to you was carrying a cotton bag with the IB logo on it. You wondered if you should strike up a conversation, but had no time to initiate it, as the person next to you noticed you staring.

“Are you going to the IB headquarters too?” he asked. You nodded.

“I just want to have some control,” you said, and then went on to explain the unfortunate circumstances the cancellation of the final exams had put you into. The young man next to you nodded along to your story.

“I hadn’t had my Biology IA completed yet when the school closed,” he explained once you were done with your story. “I required supplies from the school to finish it, so I had to plan a new topic. And then they pushed the deadlines further in, so, I was fucked.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you said. He shrugged his shoulders.

“I could’ve probably pulled through if it wasn’t for the other IAs. They weren’t exactly prime quality, either. I just thought I could make up for them in the finals, but… well.”

You nodded sympathetically, and then turned to look out the window.

“What are we going to do once we’re there?” you wondered out loud.

“Be gay, do crime,” he replied with confidence.

You and the young man parted ways after the plane flight, and it never even occurred to you that you never even asked for his name. It left you a bit saddened, but rage was running through your veins again as you called the cab to your destination; the IB headquarters.

However, after a short ride the cab driver pulled over and tried explaining something to you that you couldn’t quite understand. It seemed that the drive was over, even though you were yet to reach the headquarters. Regardless, you gave up, paid the driver and got out of the taxi. Soon you saw why the driver had refused to bring you further. There was insane traffic from that point on, and the air was filled with honking as the cars tried to find their way back from the apparent dead end they had reached.

There was a lousily put together wall of stuff up ahead, guarded by some young people. You approached, but one of the people stepped in front of you.

“Stop,” she said. “What is your business?”

You wondered if you should lie about your true intentions, but she didn’t appear to belong to any official law enforcement.

“I-I’m a former IB student….” you stuttered, and the guard’s face softened a bit.

“In for the fight? Jump over!” she encouraged, and moved aside, allowing you to step over what appeared to be a fallen streetlamp.

Beyond, were hundreds of visibly angry people, some wearing IB merch, others burning IB merch. In the midst of it all, were the headquarters. The building was, much like the IB merch, on fire.

“Cool,” you said.


End file.
